


You Were Never Emily

by MonacaTogami



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Not Related, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Mild Language, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, NorIce, Protective Norway (Hetalia), Rare Pairings, Rescue, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, vent - Freeform, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonacaTogami/pseuds/MonacaTogami
Summary: Lukas finds Emil in a blizzard and takes him in, learning that the Icelandic trans man has been through more than Lukas could have imagined.
Relationships: Iceland/Norway (Hetalia)
Kudos: 16





	You Were Never Emily

"Get out of here! Never come back!" 

Emil's body crunched down into the thick layer of snow that covered the frozen ground, his shoulder's throbbing from the harsh push that sent him flying backwards. His pain filled eyes stared up at the much taller man, who glared back down at him coldly. 

"Father!" Emil screamed, his eyes sweltering with hot tears. 

"I'm not your father! Your father was a freak of nature, creating someone as _disgusting_ as you!" The words hurt Emil more than the push. Infinitely more. 

The man continued, "I may have taken you in, but I could _never_ consider _you_ my child! You're a _freak_ ! No _normal_ person wants to change their gender! Get the _fuck_ out of here, Emily!" With that, there was a loud slam of the door, just after the scraps of what once was a pride flag scattered over the Icelandic's body.

"My name's Emil," he choked out, tears freely flowing as he scrambled to his feet. He shivered, wind blowing through his short, choppy hair. The jeans and oversized t-shirt he was wearing did next to nothing to help his rapidly declining body temperature. He hugged his arms tightly to his chest, wobbling as he took a step forward, his foot sinking into the ice cold layer of snow that covered everything around him. 

“S-Stupid!” he shouted to himself, “Why are you so stupid!”

He breathed in jaggedly, his face contorting as he tried to make his tears stop. But he couldn’t, the pain he was feeling was too much. It hurt too much. He took a few more steps, slow and uneven as he tried to navigate his way through the blizzard. It felt like his limbs were freezing; that they could snap off at any moment. Managing to make his way to what he could only assume was the sidewalk, he raised his head to stare ahead of himself. His lip quivered, his red cheeks slowly becoming more purple. But he dredged onward.

It wasn’t long before he could bear the cold no longer. His vision slowly began to fade into an empty grey, until it completely was covered in darkness.

* * *

Emil woke up to the pleasant scent of coffee, and the sensation of a warm blanket over his body. _“I must be in Valhalla...”_ he thought to himself, the only reasonable solution, as he was certain he had died. _“That or heaven…”_

He opened his eyes a slit, asking his blurred vision to focus. 

“Godt, you’re awake,” he heard a voice say. It sounded close to him, probably only a few inches away from wherever he was. _“It must be heaven, because that was the voice of an angel…”_

Emil’s attention was snapped toward a pale hand in front of him, which waved in front of his eyes. Noticing he was looking at it, the hand moved away. Emil’s gaze followed, tracing up the arm the hand was connected to, eventually arriving at a face of a man. He had smooth skin that almost seemed to glow in the soft light that surrounded them, and delicate rose coloured lips that were parted slightly in his concern. His cheeks and nose were dusted in the faintest pink, that perfectly complimented his pale, ivory skin. Wavy, ash blonde hair swept across his face and perfectly shaped his head. Deep, indigo eyes examined Emil softly, oh how the Icelander could take hours to just gaze into those mysterious pools. 

_“Yep. Definitely an angel.”_

“Hallo?” the angel spoke again, in his smooth Norwegian accent, waving his hand in front of Emil’s face again as the Icelandic had seemingly drifted off once more. 

Coming to his senses, Emil finally registered that he was being spoken to, and searched for his voice. “Uhm… Halló…” His words came out somewhat squeaky, which couldn’t be helped due to the dryness in his throat. 

“Here,” the angel said, handing Emil a glass of water, “for that throat of yours.” Emil took it, subconsciously hesitant, muttering a soft,“Takk.”

He lifted the cup up to his lips, gulping down the water quickly, the liquid soothing his throat. He was thankful that somehow this angel knew of what ailed him. 

“Mind telling me your name?” he asked, just as Emil finished the last drop from the glass. 

“Emil,” he answered softly. 

“What were you doing out in that blizzard, Emil?”

Damn. So maybe this wasn’t an angel, or heaven. An angel would’ve already known right? That then left a new question: Where was he actually, and just who was this guy?

“What’s it to you?” Emil asked, feeling much more defensive in his new found confusion. He shifted his body to sit up on what he now noticed to be a cream coloured couch, that was surprisingly soft despite looking rather old. 

“You could’ve died,” the man said, standing up and walking over to the coffee pot, which was in the kitchen adjacent to the living room, in what was presumably his house. “I just wanted to know if that was on purpose.”

He took a mug out from the cupboard and began pouring the coffee in. Oh how Emil would kill for that cup of coffee. 

“I got kicked out,” Emil mumbled, taking time to notice his surroundings. This guy’s house didn’t seem all that big. There was an oak coffee table in front of the couch, and an average sized television mounted to the wall. The kitchen area was just the right size, with a counter being the only thing dividing it from the living room. Between the kitchen and the main room was what Emil assumed to be the front door. In the opposite direction sat a hallway, which from what Emil could see, led to three other rooms. 

“Who kicked you out?” the man asked, grabbing his mug and carrying it with him back over to Emil. He sat down on the floor. Emil almost felt bad that he was taking up all the space on the couch, although he wasn’t exactly sure he would have felt comfortable with the guy sitting next to him. That, and he just asked a question that was too personal for Emil’s liking, and he wasn’t sure about how he should respond. 

“That’s kind of a rude thing to ask, don’t you think?” Emil said, raising his voice more than he would have liked, although he was sure it made it obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. 

“It’s okay," the man said calmly, “You don’t have to yell.”

There was a moment or two of silence, the man just sipping on his coffee, while Emil still struggled to process exactly what was happening. Had this guy carried him all the way here? Why would any sensible person do that?

“My name is Lukas, by the way,” the Norwegian spoke, breaking the small gap of silence. 

“Nice to meet you, I guess…” Emil sat up, now noticing the clothes he was wearing. “Did you…?”

“Your clothes were soaking wet. Don’t worry, I didn’t look.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” the Icelandic said sternly, burying his hands in the sleeves of the borrowed sweater he had on. It was rather soft, despite being wool, which Emil usually found itchy. It comforted him a little, despite his face that was heating up with embarrassment and anger. “You probably know I’m… then…”

“You mean a girl?”

Emil’s face was bright red, heat covering his cheeks and ears. “Geez! Do you have to say it so bluntly?” He looked away. 

“But you’re not a girl, are you?” Lukas lowered his coffee mug and gave a thoughtful glance in Emil’s direction. 

“How did you…?”

“You said your name’s Emil right?”

Emil was confused. Was it actually possible he could have known? Most of the time in these sort of situations he would be laughed at, or told he was delusional. Maybe Lukas really was an angel. “Yeah, it is…”

“You don’t need to be so embarrassed about it. I get it’s tough. But I’m not going to preach at you.” 

Emil wasn’t exactly sure how to respond, and resolved to just remaining silent and processing the words spoken to him. Who knows, he could be lying. They had just met. All Emil knew about Lukas was that he lived in a decent house, liked coffee, and he wasn’t afraid to change an unconscious person’s clothes. Not exactly any defining traits. 

“I won’t say anything more if you’re uncomfortable. But now that you’re up, you should probably go shower.” 

That was a sensible idea. Emil nodded in agreement. 

“The bathroom is the second door down that hall there,” Lukas said, pointing to the hallway. 

“Takk.”

“Vær så god.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translation notes:  
> Takk: Thanks  
> Vær så god: You're welcome  
> Valhalla: Basically norse heaven. Look it up if you wanna know more! :3  
> Godt: Good


End file.
